Heartbent
by effection
Summary: Ever since she hit puberty, she had noticed him. Well, it was hard not to notice him… with his black shirts, and his tight jeans that showed off a tight butt, his bleached hair… if only the attraction were more than onesided. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **Blah blah blah I own nothing blah blah.

**English class.**

Ever since she hit puberty, she had noticed him. Well, it was hard _not_ to notice him… with his black shirts, and his tight jeans that showed off a tight butt, his bleached hair…

Unfortunately for her, the attraction was only one sided. William never gave her a second glance. Ever. Well, only when his girlfriend, Godzilla – "_That's Drusilla with a U, not a EW, and two L's… get it write or I'll beat you to death with my nail filer"_, decided it was time to make fun of "Shmuffy's" hair, her clothes, or her funny nose that looked like she ran into a lamppost when she was younger. When his girlfriend noticed her, he always turned his head. Sometimes he'd smile as she laughed with her friends and other times, he'd turn back around, indifferent. Uncaring. Sometimes those indifferent looks hurt more than the submissive, agreeable smile.

Buffy sighed, and cast another gaze in Spike's direction. He was seated by the rows near the windows and was slouched in his chair with his head tilted slightly towards the right. She couldn't help but feel a warm glow as she noticed the afternoon sun outlining his face in gold and casting shadows along the curve of his cheekbones. His head twitched a little bit and he brought a carefree hand up to rub the back of his neck.

_Stay focused…_ she scolded her self and forced her eyes off of him. She wouldn't let him distract her. Determined to pay attention to the less attractive teacher, Buffy picked up her pencil and positioned it on her notebook to take notes.

"… I already graded the poems you handed in yesterday, and today, _you_ will be the ones to recite … "

But as hard as she tried, her mind couldn't help but start wandering from the words coming out of Mr. Giles's mouth and float around in seemingly more important topics. Like _why can't I be exotic like Drusilla? Why can't I be beautiful like Cordelia? Why is my face so blah?_

Something the teacher said caused Spike to scoff and shift in his seat. The sound caused Mr. Giles to stop and turn sharply in his direction. 

"William? Is there something wrong you'd like to share with the class?" He frowned and removed his glasses as he reached for the handkerchief at his pocket.

"_No…_" Spike drawled out with an easy smile. "I just don't see why you have to think so hard to write poetry. Thought it was quite simple, actually. It should come from inside… if it doesn't come easy, then you're obviously stupid, yeah?"

"Oh, is that how you feel, Will- "

"_Spike_…"

"_William_," the teacher glared. "Well, if poetry comes so easy for you… why don't you share your piece with the class."

"Don't feel like it."

"Your grade depends on it," he threatened. Spike shrugged and raised his hands, slightly, indicating that _No_, he didn't care. "I'll call your mother…"

"Fine," Spike grumbled, pushing the chair backwards as he stood up. "I'll _share_."

Buffy found her heart pounding furiously. She always felt like this whenever he got up to read any of his work. Though he hated to admit that he was good, his writing was always the epitome of perfection. He wrote about love, sorrow, passion, hate, want… and she liked to imagine that he was writing about her. Of course… until he started talking about "Raven-black hair" or "his pale, dark goddess, full of contradiction."

Spike cleared his throat and glared at some of his friends, snickering from the back of the room.

"This is called 'I'm just a little heart-bent'," he started, but was interrupted by a voice coming from the back of the room.

"Hey buddy, if this is another poem about your girlfriend, I'm going to sleep right now," Angel called out.

"Yeah!"

"You're whipped, man."

"Totally, dude."

"Oh, shut your bloody traps," Spike snapped, then started reading.

"_I see her small frame standing there,  
biting lips, pulling hair,  
I see her shining eyes on me,  
Fascinating. Frightening._

She's trembling as I turn away,  
Avert my eyes from the girl of day,  
Sometimes I think she's heaven sent,  
I admit, I'm a little heart-bent.

Golden hair, I want to touch,  
I want to cause her face to flush,  
Make her talk to me, say anything.  
Fascinating. Frightening.

Not a word, she speaks to me,  
I'm as frustrated as can be,  
I think this girl is heaven-sent,  
She's got me feeling all heart-bent."

The class was silent when he finished and Buffy could have sworn that his eyes met hers for a split second after they left his paper.

"Dude…" Angel said, "Are you okay? Drusilla has dark hair and I'm pretty sure she's from hell, not heaven. He's gone mental, everyone."

Spike crumpled the paper up and tossed it into the trashcan before returning to his seat. After a little while, the class carried on as normal.

When the bell rang, she took her time to pick up her books and when she looked up, he was standing by his seat. Time seemed to freeze for a million years before he pushed his chair in and exited the room. This time, she was certain that he caught her eye. She even thought she saw a hint of a smile.

………………………  
**English class**

He hated his seat. Absolutely hated it. For one, the sun was always in his eye and it was way too goddamn hot. Secondly and most importantly, he was in front of the most beautiful girl in the world. Buffy Anne Summers. If she were in front of him, it would be easy to cast a sidelong glance at her without anybody noticing. But with her behind him, it was impossible. And so, he hated his seat.

He also hated the class. The stupid teacher was always asking them to write stupid assignments about things that inspired them. And the only thing that ever inspired him was Buffy Anne Summers. And stupidly enough, he always wrote about her, then changed "golden" to "raven" and so on and so forth to cover it up. Just like he covered his feelings for her up with Drusilla. His girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend, as of yesterday, when she called him and told him he wasn't satisfying her and decided to move on.

And he also hated the class because the teacher always wanted him to read. And share. Very much like he was doing right now.

"_William_, why don't you share your piece with the class."

"Don't feel like it," he grumbled, but he knew that no matter what he said, he would end up at the front of the room, rambling his 'feelings' from a poem and embarrassing himself in front of everybody. And her.

"Your grade depends on it…I'll call your mother…"

As usual, he relented, and as usual, there was the catcalls, the laughing, the jeering, the joking, and as usual, Buffy Anne Summers looked up at him and gave him that little half-smile that made his knees weak and sent his stomach lurching.

He took a deep breath and started reading. Maybe this time, she'll see how he felt about her. Maybe she would come up to him at lunch and smile and ask him to eat with her. Maybe…

"_I see her small frame standing there,  
biting lips, pulling hair,  
I see her shining eyes on me,  
Fascinating. Frightening._

She's trembling as I turn away,  
Avert my eyes from the girl of day,  
Sometimes I think she's heaven sent,  
I admit, I'm a little heart-bent.

Golden hair, I want to touch,  
I want to cause her face to flush,  
Make her talk to me, say anything.  
Fascinating. Frightening.

Not a word, she speaks to me,  
I'm as frustrated as can be,  
I think this girl is heaven-sent,  
She's got me feeling all heart-bent."

When he finished, the first thing he did was search for her eyes. He wanted to see if she liked it, but of course, her eyes were downcast. And when she looked back up, he was so nervous he had to turn away.

When the class ended, he looked for her again and this time, she looked back at him. So he ran for the door.

She had to know. Her eyes told him that she knew. That was why he bolted to the door. It was way too intense in the English classroom. Hell, every time he was close to her, things felt way too intense, way too heated.

He saw Drusilla leaning against Riley's locker and making eyes at the giant football player. Well, if the poem hadn't given it away… now it was obvious that they weren't together anymore.

Not that he cared.

He just wanted that intense, golden, heaven-sent girl in his English class that made his heart pound like crazy.

Heart bent.

**This is a one-shot. People _have _demanded sequels and I _have _considered writing a sequel… but I'm not sure if that will ever happen. I know people love to see Buffy and Spike together (if you're a Spuffy fan, anyway), but this wasn't supposed to be a big blown out romance story. It's just a cute-kinda ficlet.**


End file.
